Life from the Foxhole
by The Fish with no pen
Summary: Sometimes in war, you end up heavily wounded and far away from allies and friends. With nothing more then an enemy stuck in the same foxhole as you. It changes a man, or in this case a mech, and after Mission City those changes get examined by all sides.
1. Forced Neutrals

**Disclaimer:** We all know this song and dance, but better safe then sorry. I own nothing but wandering thoughts, so you won't get anything out of me if you try and sue.

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It was not one of his better missions.

Trapped in a hastily trans scanned altmode as systems collapsed or just stopped working all together. Fuel system red lining as his processor went into an abrupt about face and began compressing and archiving relevant data in the even he went off line and someone needed to download his processor. The only thing going for him was that of his spark. It was still strong and he managed to avoid any breaches of his casing and containment field, along side his laser core. Though that was a dim hope of sorts as he had enough understanding of basic field surgery to know that he was in for a very long and potentially dangerous stasis lock.

At least, as the last of his periphery systems went dark, the 'con not more then twenty feet away from him was in as much or even worse off then he was.

He had slowly came around to the feeling of swaying and something keeping him upright and in place. The only thing visually he could 'see' being the sluggish diagnostic report slowly scrolling by. Many of the system checks still redlined and blaring warnings of serious repair still needed, but the amount of systems going green was at least more then what he expected. The final diagnostic finishing with a whirr and another ping of systems critically low on any sort of fuel and alternative ways to collect suggested.

He managed to activate the few remaining solar panels that hadn't been ripped off with most of his main armor when he had been knocked around, before he was pulled back down into the odd floating sensation of stasis lock.

The second time he surfaced he managed to get past the diagnostic and was pleased when a few of his optical units manage to power up from the passive energy collection he managed to set up last time. The environment though made no sense to him at all as he took in, from the odd angles his sensors had shifted to in this form, a grey substance below and surrounding him along with very flimsy steel constructs every now and then. Not to mention the atrociously primitive tools and electronics cluttering various surfaces stained with oil and antifreeze. One sensor managing to twitch enough to take in a sign in an odd language. His processor still sluggish and riddled with systems in red more then green he spent far too long puzzling over this '-arge' and what the rest of the sign had printed on it. Even though he wouldn't be able to translate it just yet.

Only for him to take in the sight of another badly dented vehicle and his mental curse at what it meant. All while fighting the pull of stasis as he wasn't certain he'd come back up again with that Decepticon sitting across from him.

He was surprised to come back up and have half his systems, though not green, at least not red lining and chirping warnings of severe damage at him. What was more surprising was to have his visual feeds snap on and see the still battered seeming, but in much better shape then last time, Decepticon sitting patiently in the spot from last time. Both seeming to not be bothered as they just stayed where they were and stared one another down. Only taking a secondary thought to the activity happening around them as the strange creatures made of organic material moved about talking to one another in an odd language and seeming to either be repairing or tearing apart the various vehicles around them. A sight that was a bit horrifying to both of them, if the small shudder from the 'con as one of the vehicles was cut into with a screech of metal and flying sparks.

He at least had the smug satisfaction of being the last one to succumb back into stasis lock.

When he next managed to come back up all his internal systems were chirping back at him of being in adequate functioning capabilities while his transformation and other physical systems still grumbled along the red. A mix blessing as his internal communicator was back up, but not the systems for long range capability.

It was also the first time that he actually spoke to the Decepticon that had nearly mowed him down on the edge of the galaxy before both had ended up careening into this odd planet during an evacuation of the battle zone. It was the typical insults and bristling as both were certain the other would find a way to offline the other if they managed to get enough systems functioning to do so. The heat of the words on the radio signal soon faded after a few dozen rotations of the yellow star the planet circled. As it became more of a routine to hear the sound of a known and familiar language instead of being surrounded purely by the alien.

When it became apparent that whatever had been keeping them from ending up under the tools of the alien was gone they had both made a break for it after the aliens had left. Why he followed the Decepticon he wasn't certain.

With the fledgling communication system known as the internet they hid and observed. He in fascination of this planet and the dominant species as it made illogical leaps and bounds in technology, and the Decepticon in surly silence that made him wonder what would happen when transformation and weapons systems could be used again. An earth decade passes, bringing the total time upon this planet up to thirty solar rotations, or years as the humans call them. Most of it having been spent out of touch of everything as heavily damaged systems worked to frantically fix themselves enough to be stable. Not fully fixed, no that would involve a medic and several long days of someone mucking about in their internals for that definition to be applied.

They would, as was becoming a very apt phrase from the humans, just have to suck it up and deal with it.

It was in the fourth decade of tolerating each other because they were the only known other on this planet that they got an inkling that it might not be true. Just as the trans scanning capabilities slowly came back online and were subsequently used to gain more appropriate disguises for the time period. Thus letting them move about more freely without having to worry about the humans gawking at the 'vintage' model cars roaming the streets. In the early nineties only car buffs, rich collectors, or those who painstakingly kept the family car in tip top shape would have cars from the fifties running about. It had been a blip while both passively scanned every available wavelength of communication their limited capabilities allowed in their state.

It made them both stop and actually process what this meant in terms of how they were now and how they would have to be if others did arrive. Almost half a vorn they had been on this planet, without the war or factions outside of their own personal quirks when it came to such. Like how the Decepticon made it a habit to just _stare_ at him if he was not the first one out of recharge. A habit that, until about six years ago, had always sent him into a fit of paranoia and attempts to meld with the wall of whatever structure they were using for cover during recharge periods, just because it was not a pleasant thing to come up out of recharge to a heavy gaze centered on you, regardless of who it was doing the staring.

It was only then that he realized that they still used their factions as designations, and the suppose venom and insult for doing so had been lost long ago. It was just a habit now really.

Though they didn't really confer so much as come to the same conclusion as they sat under a bridge in a downpour on the East coast. Both couldn't really see going back to the war and attempting to deactivate others while not end up deactivated themselves. Even the reason for the war seemed faded and trite as they tried and recall why they had been fighting before. This odd sort of neutrality suited them and if it meant being stuck with one another for the foreseeable future then it really wasn't that bad. They've survived this long dealing with one another and not wanting to push the other into oncoming traffic…well at least not to the point of actually doing so. Everyone got annoyed with everyone eventually if you were stuck constantly with the other as the only companion in a foreign environment.

Then as the talk of the new millennium faded as half a decade into it the fervor had made it mundane for many they knew they weren't alone.

Mission City had happened far too quickly for them to comprehend or even think about showing up for and aiding in any way. Decepticon had even muttered that even if they hadn't been three thousand miles away all they would have been good for was target practice in any case; as neither of them had managed enough self repair to even attempt a transformation yet without fear of something ripping and defeating the purpose of the stasis lock from fifty years ago. He had silently heard the other reason under the sarcastic target practice comment, as he had wondered such as well. Could they even muster up enough will to show themselves and fight once more?

They somehow began to actively avoid any areas that had even a slight rumor attached to it that could be linked to a Cybertronian sighting.

Decepticon becoming more sullen as months passed and the places they normally hid in became the worst places to do so. It was becoming apparent that in much the same way they had been looking for hints of those that had landed already and thus actively avoid such. Another source was finding old stories and legends of 'ghost cars' and investigating. Since many of the more benign, even if Decepticon found it funny when they got linked to the more fear inducing tales from time to time, ones were caused by them. It made going to usual places to lay low or switch an altmode when they had the energy for it, risky places to be.

The hiding became moot after a point when he had bolted out of recharge as a familiar ping was felt on his communication array. More specifically on an encrypted channel that had not been used since he first crashed on this planet. His startled action was enough that, though the line was one Decepticon did not have he correctly guessed what had just happened.

Now it was just a matter of the Autobot's Chief Medical Officer locating the signal and this odd, foxhole of neutrality would come crashing down around them.


	2. Contact

**DISCLAIMER:** Still don't own as I have yet to find a way to become one with Hasbro.

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**Contact**

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It had been the sense of an odd blip on one of his long range scanners. A barely there energy signature that was too faint and far away for his programs to determine just what it was he had 'caught' outside of it not being normal for this planet. Only for it to fade away as quickly as it had shown up making it seem like maybe a hiccup in his equipment. Doubtful, but a possibility when he had to rely on his own self repair and what a human could do when given step by step instructions to help maintain his frame when self repair couldn't cut it. This had gotten him odd looks for the request, until he reminded Sam and Mikaela that his teammates did not have the right hand configurations to do such delicate work.

Until again that same faint energy signature was acquired and just as quickly faded away several months later, and in an entirely different area then last time.

Suspicious he delved into the back log of readings to see if perhaps there had been other times he had caught the reading, but had not reacted to due to something more pressing happening. His feeling was correct as he saw that his scanner had picked such up several times before, during times when he couldn't spare the processing power to note such as he had during one of the few down times they had acquired since landing on this planet. After a bit of analyzing and patiently waiting for the next hit on the radar, he began to see a pattern.

Or more he saw a pattern trying not to be a pattern as he noted times of occurrence, where they had occurred, and how long there was a lull before the next blip had happened. Though what was causing it eluded him, even as he knew deep in his spark that he was not picking up anything native at all. Which was the mindset that brought about the second discovery as he once more found himself studying the graph of the reading, and found enough tiny variances to figure out it was not one signal, but rather two happening within four one hundredth of a second from each other. Confirming it even more that whatever these two signals were they were not earth made at all to have that much precise control, but Cybertronian equipment and more specifically Autobots and Decepticons themselves had such control which had allowed them to perform such complicated battle plans in the past.

It took the humans questioning the finding for him to finally realize what it was he was picking up.

He had dismissed the idea at first, as scanning an alternate mode that often and with such quick precision was energy consuming. Even if both mechs (Ironhide still was of the opinion it couldn't be Decepticons because that faction wasn't known for being this secretive.) had Energon convertors built into their frames like medics and many others who saw early on that such was a good idea before resources started becoming scarce and the Allspark had not been launched. Until someone asked if they could stock pile energy like the humans did with many things as a just in case scenario, it was the only feasible option Ratchet had to admit if odd as it was not really a trait Cybertronians had ever adapted before. Their race as a whole preferring more economical means of energy consumption if rationing of such was needed, instead of collecting it like these two were obviously doing. This spoke of something else to Ratchet and his medical training that he did not voice out loud at the time.

His medical and scientific background conferring and agreeing that this could be a sign of deep assimilation if the mechs in question were unaware of how much they had adapted from the dominant species of the planet. This meant prolong exposure to such culture without any contact with another Cybertronian but themselves, for at least twenty five solar revolutions or years alone on this planet. If that was the case then there were more pressing concerns in regards to these unknown mechs.

If they had been here before them; why had they not made contact, on purpose or on accident, with either faction? And what would they do when Ratchet found them?

Oh when it had first been suggested Ironhide had nearly had a processor lock up in his sputtering at the decision. Even Prime had looked worried at the suggestion as he also voiced concern on the possibility of it being Decepticons. In the end though, Ratchet found himself roaming the highways of America, playing catch up to the mysterious signals and the mechs he was certain were behind it. Already on the seventy fifth possible scenario in regards to the health of the two considering how long he believed the two had been here on the planet. It was several days later and his processors braced from the worse scenario of this hiding being the last desperate act of dying mechs, to finding the two in almost perfectly good health that he caught up to them.

Though he had almost overshot them and would have kept on going if an old encrypted channel he hadn't even realize was scanning latched onto and pinged a standard greeting over it. Causing him to slam on his breaks and make a very wild U-turn when he took note of it being a channel only used for close communication range…and one only Officers had access to.

Officers that he had not been in contact with for millions of years, as he had to take a dive into archived and compressed memory files to fit the signal that had only been returned after he had sent the same opening ping every five seconds for ten straight minutes. The amazement of this particular mech being alive considering how overly fragile support mechs were and thus why they were so rare now, almost had him untense coils in happiness of such. Until he noticed that he was getting no response from the other mech that he knew from his scanners was also there. The fact none of his now open and scanning channels were picking up anything had him casting about for some answer. When that particular convoy had supposedly been completely lost when an experimental space bridge had gone up the war had not reached the point of taking away all of the neutrals either through forcing them to pick or side or through dying in the crossfire of a city raze.

It was a possibility, and could also explain why even with one of them being an Autobot the two had remained away. The protocol back then when there were neutrals having an Autobot remain to help and protect a neutral until they were out of a hot zone. The logic already had his programs finding and opening those long neglected channels that had once been the main way of communication for all of them, back before the war began.

The medic felt his spark give a good impression of being dropped from a cliff when a signal from the second presence finally popped up on the open communication line. Tagged with a faction and designation he knew.

How in all the power of the Allspark did a support unit like Red Alert end up in the company of Vortex?


	3. Useful

**DISCLAIMER: **Still don't own so still no money making schemes in the works with this story.

**WARNING: ** Vague mentions of some unpleasantness of the Vortex kind.

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**Useful**

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There had been what seemed like thousands of thin, intertwining wires that would have even gave a human pause in how to handle the delicate circuitry.

It was a nightmare on a normal maintenance run when he had equipment and help in the form of other medics who he could trust not to crush the crystal like protrusions of oddly powerful memory relays. Ratchet would have wished for the ability to cry in frustration at the task in front of him already, but the normal frustrating task of dealing with a support unit medically wise was multiplied tenfold when the rest of the situation had been added in. With the sudden presence of the black top kick angrily revving both engine and weapons as he gave his opinion of what was going on. The odd timbre that only Optimus seemed to produced countering or even agreeing in more subdue tones with Ironhide, while both kept scanners and optics trained on the silent but highly amused Vortex.

Dented, marred with old scorched marks that hadn't had a chance to heal, and barely able to move after Ratchet had medically overrode the lock up on the transformation sequence. It did nothing to ease the tension or the inherent feeling of something unpleasant sliding against circuits as Ratchet was the only one to then notice the unwavering gaze of the yellow scout who was poised to leap at the Decepticon if given a chance.

_A holding cell they had no clue about before someone had literally crashed into it. The grayed out husks of frames that had once been commanders or other important individuals in Iacon who had gone missing over the first major battles of the war; only a few files in the system that pointed to one common reason for the existence of the place and the dead that filled it._

The file was quickly and savagely sent back into its proper storage place before Ratchet started remembering the faces and designations of those they had found and shifted through. Or the subsequent file that had been made as they cataloged the various injuries and methods used to extract whatever information it was that Megatron had been looking for. He was already contemplating how to justify sneaking in one or more of the humans to have them help with the amount of work Red Alert was turning out to be from being away from any medical care for so long and with such extensive injuries. Though it wasn't quick enough for the little whisper of thought to cause him to still long enough to keep his smallest and lowest setting welder from causing a spider web thin capillary for conductive fluid from melting and forcing him to replace it for a third time in the past hour.

_Wisp had been Bumblebee's commander at the time and it is common knowledge just _who _exactly it was that collected information from those in that place._

It was a grim realization of what he had brought with him, even as his medical conditioning and just the very real and almost selfish need to not have to think about factions and such, and just _heal_ as he was intended to from the moment the first medical program was installed into him. He had two very damaged mechs in his medbay that by all intentions and statistics should have deactivated already or have been in such a deep stasis lock they would never have found them, both who through sheer stubborn will had survived and had some mobility and say so in their life; and had willingly after a few starts and accusations thrown about had given the encrypted signal of neutrals willing to follow the Simfur Protocol. That had been enough for him and he was almost about ready to take Ironhide out by the knee joints if he did not stop almost bringing out one of his cannons in his medbay.

That joy was taken from him as Optimus bodily dragged the weapons specialist and the scout out of the medbay, after noticing the quiet snarl Ratchet had emitted when another section of memory storage collapsed on itself, forcing the medic stop what he was doing to stabilize that section or risk Red Alert's systems triggering a purge of the files within that section in a panicked act of self preservation. The closing of the metal door bringing silence once more to the medbay and the three occupants in the room.

It was actually unnerving and if not for the fact Vortex was actually not doing anything to actively cause such feelings made it worse. From what had been told and he had seen in reports, a quiet Vortex was usually a plotting Vortex, and coupled with the general attitude, personalities, and the automatic responses when dealing with the opposing faction…it did not take long for Ratchet to stabilize as much as possible so as to look at the second patient in his care. Red optics flickering from the bored perusal of the wall to him.

Physically, the Decepticon looked like he should be the one offlined and laid out on the surgical berth when compared to the mostly intact armor of the one he was currently working on. Yet there had not even been a snide comment about such, having more questions of such a decision from his own teammates then anything else. Even though he was certain it was mostly because Ironhide figured the sooner Ratchet fixed and thus honored his side of the protocol then the sooner Vortex could be seen as an enemy again, and thus up for target practice.

"So hard for all to understand your art, no? Then again not many see just how _fragile_ the little walking memory boxes are."

If the facial structure of Vortex's frame was more human like there would have been a maniacal grin of some sort gracing features. Instead a short jagged buzz of an electrical field gave such an impression to Ratchet. Even with the groan and stiff movements as the left hand, claws dulled and chipped from lack of maintenance, came up and hooked into a shape as if holding something.

"This section you are working on, if ripped just so causes an odd little episode like these organics have called Dementia."

The hand shifted to one lone claw in a movement as if raking across and tugging at wires.

"Moving just so in the same area and every pain receptor in their little bodies flare up like little novas of error messages that won't dissipate until hours after the pressure applied has been removed."

For a few moments it seemed as if Vortex was going to continue his discussion to the horrified medic. Instead his energy field gave off another jagged burst of circuit crawling energy and the Decepticon subsided back into staring at the farthest wall of the medbay. The discussion or whatever it was that they had over with for now and the ignoring act back in place. In any other case he would have whirled and wondered about just how the two had survived together as they had. No that was actually a stupid train of thought when one took into account the frame types.

Red Alert was a support unit, thus was useful. As long as Red Alert was useful he was easy to get along with.

No matter what Prime may hope for in regards to this odd turn of events, Ratchet could see clearly that this would not be some story of a true defection with the Decepticon apologetic and willing to repent for his past actions. Neutrality would be the best case scenario in all of this, worse being that he'll have helped fix a rogue element that may or may not try and return into the good graces of those remaining of his faction, that may one day find this planet or be brought here by Starscream.

It all depended on usefulness and amusement.


End file.
